The Child Of Deduction
by Champagne and Blood
Summary: What if the great Sherlock Holmes found out one day that he had a daughter? A daughter who looked exactly like him and had the same great mind? He would think it a nightmare, but what if it turned out to be exactly what he needed to become just a little bit more human?
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone! This is my first Sherlock fic. It's a somewhat popular storyline throughout Sherlock fanfics that I've noticed and I decided to take my own spin on it. Also, I am not British. I'm just a silly American and so I'm sorry if some of the words or language isn't really British. I tried my best! I've rated it T because even though it may not seem like it just yet, some of the story lines I plan on including can be triggering to people.

The first chapter is set sometime after _A Scandal In Belgravia_ and sometime before _The Hounds of Baskerville.  
_

**Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Sherlock or the characters. At all.** I do however own my OC.

Side note: If you have the time to review, let me know how I'm doing with writing the characters! Also, this chapter is only very short because I want to know what everyone thinks of it before I post a lot. Thanks!

* * *

**The Child of Deduction**

So here she was. Here Addison stood, outside 221b Baker Street, the flat of the infamous Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. Most people would wonder why a thirteen year old girl was standing outside this 'consulting detective's' home at nine o'clock in the morning on a Saturday. Most people would also wonder why a thirteen year old girl was wearing white Converse sneakers with fake blood spattered all over them. However, this was Baker Street and the residents had definitely seen stranger.

Addison looked extremely calm but her brilliant mind was racing. Sherlock Holmes was hard to figure out, very hard to get up the courage to talk to, and extremely harder to convince that you were worth his time. And yet, here Addison was. Ready to face him and ask him a question he would probably not be expecting.

Addison walked up the stone steps and rang the bell once, sighing as she did it.

Inside the flat at 221b Baker Street sat Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. The consulting detective and his ex army doctor best friend, both men famous for solving the toughest of crimes by means of deduction. Well, Sherlock used deduction and John just blogged about Sherlock using deduction, but nonetheless, they were a team.

The day had started surprisingly early, for Sherlock at least. He usually woke up early (if he slept at all) and he hadn't slept last night.

Sherlock was quiet today, reading a book he had bought yesterday in his favorite armchair. John had a slight headache and took the opportunity to enjoy the quiet. As of now, the reading was interesting to Sherlock, but his boredom would come back as soon as the book was finished.

"Morning," said John, walking through the living room.

"Yes, you too," mumbled Sherlock, not looking up from his book. His eyes danced along the pages as he concentrated.

John looked around at the flat awkwardly and then said, "Well, I guess I'm going to fetch the paper and I need to go to the bank, I think."

Sherlock refused to look up from the book but said, "I'll text you if we get a good client, though we're lucky if we get one this early on a Satur-"

He was interrupted by the bell sounding and looked over at the door with wide eyes.

"So I won't be going out, I guess," John sighed, "Well, I guess we'll just see if this one is good, which it probably won't be and then I'll go-"

"No, it's going to be good, John," Sherlock set his book down on the arm of the chair and smiled, "9:08 on a Saturday morning. We haven't had a case in a while. This one is going to be_ really_ good. Answer it in thirty seconds," and Sherlock leaped off the chair and walked into the kitchen.

John couldn't help but notice that Sherlock had been slightly wrong thinking they wouldn't get a client this early, but decided not to torment him about it today.

"Just where are you going, Sherlock?"

"Thirty seconds, John. I'm making a dramatic entrance."

"Dramatic entrance? What for? Oh never mind," John rolled his eyes, and looked at the clock for thirty seconds, actually kind of looking forward to see what the hell Sherlock was doing.

"You can answer it now," Sherlock called from the kitchen.

"Yes, I know, Thank you Sherlock," Replied John sarcastically.

"No problem at all," said Sherlock either ignoring the sarcasm or not noticing it.

When he opened the door to the flat, John found a young girl staring up at him.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to all of you who favorited or added this to their alerts!

The story is still set, for the time being, sometime after _A Scandal In Belgravia_ and sometime before _The Hounds of Baskerville.  
_You'll probably know when it's done being set between the two because it starts getting canon in a few chapters.

The deductions are kind of tricky to write, simply because as much as I want to be or how many people say it, I am not Sherlock Holmes. Thank you for bearing with me!

* * *

"Oh, hello," John said to the girl.

"Hello, yes, can- oh. You're not Sherlock Holmes," said the girl in a drawling voice, oddly reminiscent to that of Sherlock.

"No, I'm not, but he is here. Would you like to come in?"

"Not unless you prefer talking in doorways."

"Right," said John, holding back the urge to roll his eyes. "Um, Have a seat," he pulled out a chair.

They hadn't had very many clients who were children and John still didn't exactly know what to do around them.

"Can I take your coat or your scarf?" John asked, his voice growing significantly more confused as he realized the Black pea coat and blue scarf looked exactly like Sherlock's coat and scarf.

Sherlock was still 'hiding' in the kitchen, waiting for the precise moment to walk out. So far he had figured the client was a girl, she spoke like she was older, but she was definitely still young. She wore sneakers, from the sound of the footsteps, and she knew exactly who he was.

The fact that she was here this early on a Saturday morning says importance.

"No thanks, I'll keep them on," said Addison.

She kept her things on so she was either expecting Sherlock and John to send her away or she was covering up her body and distancing herself, maybe bruises or scars. That insisted she was either very cynical or very nervous.

"Well, I am-"

"I know who you are Dr. Watson, I've read your blog."

Wow, everyone did read John's blog, didn't they?

"Oh, well, Sherlock is here, it's just the matter of I don't know when he'll be, erm, in the room."

"Going for a dramatic entrance, is he? Sounds like him." Addison asked John.

Sherlock's eyes got wide from the other room. Oh this girl was clever.

"If I had to guess, I'd say he's hiding in the kitchen," Addison finished, stretching out the word kitchen more than she needed to, looking John in the eyes.

John's face was full of surprise as he said, "Um, how did you-? So how does he know you?"

Addison's eyebrows rose slightly, "Oh, I assure you, he doesn't."

"But then how-?"

"Did you know I was in the kitchen?" finished Sherlock who was completely baffled but kept his voice in amusement and stepped out of the kitchen.

Finishing each others sentences? You would think they were a couple.

Addison smirked and continued to look at John, pretending to ignore Sherlock somewhat when she answered his question, "I'm your first 'client' on a Saturday morning, you figured it might be worth your time so you wanted to make an entrance. Obviously you haven't had a client in a while. You must be so bored."

Sherlock stayed silent and moved into Addison's view, she gave him a quick once over.

So this was Sherlock Holmes. He was in fact a handsome man, dressed professionally yet modern, roughly six feet tall. He was wearing a navy blue button down shirt tucked into black slacks. His hands were in his pockets and he expressed a flicker of curiosity on his face as he sat down next to John, opposite of Addison. As he got closer, Addison noticed something that made her very uncomfortable. The resemblance between her and Sherlock Holmes was uncanny. Their fair skin color, their pale green eyes, their heart shaped lips, their prominent cheekbones which Addison was sure nobody else in the world had besides the models you see on television, they both looked skinny and somewhat underfed. She could also tell that Sherlock Holmes hadn't slept last night. Funny, neither had she.

As Sherlock glanced at the girl sitting before him he saw the resemblance of the both of them as well as she did. Ignoring that thought, he moved to her clothes. Black pea coat –oh dear god another resemblance, blue scarf (_are you kidding me right now?_, he thought), skinny blue jeans, her shoes had fake blood on them, oh lord he could tell so much about her already! She liked blood? Probably one of those horror movie and serial killer fans. He knew the type. She could afford decent clothes and fake jewelry and it did make her look older than she was. Her age was easy, a very mature and well educated thirteen year old, though she would look much younger if it weren't for the makeup. He finally looked at her face. Everything was almost identical to him. Eyes, nose, lips, facial construction, hell, she even had the bloody cheekbones. Her hair was light brown, but it had once been the same color as his. She dyed it. It was straight, but not naturally because of the split ends, so she took her time getting ready in the morning.

She was a smoker and wore dark blue nail polish to cover her nicotine stained and manicured fingers. She got her teeth whitened because they were becoming stained. She looked like she took care of herself on the outside, but she was 4'8 in height, looked to weigh close to at least 80 lbs.; unhealthy for a thirteen year old girl. Combine that with the smoking, lack of sleep, and the bruise on her neck she was using the scarf to hide, and you get a terrible childhood. She was most likely beaten by her parents, probably abused mentally as well. One or both of them smoked, that's how she got hold of the cigarettes.

John also noticed the resemblance between this strange little girl and his flat mate, but didn't say anything and instead he decided to speak, "I don't believe we got your name."

Addison sat up slightly in her chair and nervously licked her lips, "Addison, Addison Smith."

Sherlock's eyes lit up at the name and Addison saw it.

"Alright, Addison, it's very nice to meet you. You already know who we are. What can we help you with?"

"My mother."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You knew my mother," she said looking to Sherlock. "Look, Before you say anything, can I just start at the beginning? There's a reason why I'm here, I promise."

Sherlock nodded slightly and John looked puzzled.

"Okay, well basically, my mother. My mother's name was Stella Smith. She died when I was seven."

"Lung cancer, I remember," Sherlock interrupted.

"Well, she gave me a book a few days before she died."

"A catcher in the rye," Mumbled Sherlock.

John looked very skeptically at Sherlock and said, "Just a minute, that's a stretch. How can you possibly know the exact book?"

Sherlock looked at John and said, "It was her favorite book, she told me so."

"Oh," he said dumbfounded, "Right, well, carry on."

"I didn't start reading it until after she died and at the end of the book there was a name. Your name. Sherlock Holmes. It was in her handwriting. She wrote it shortly before she gave it to me and I never understood what it meant. And truthfully, I had forgotten about it until I saw your name in the paper."

"So let me get this straight, you are here because your mother wrote my name in the back of a book on her death bed and you want to know why?"

"Yes. I have no idea how I expected you to know why. I'm a stupid girl, I shouldn't have come."

"Wait just a minute, now I'm curious, Sherlock, how did you know her mum?" John asked.

Sherlock had been pondering until now.

"We were acquaintances."

"Acquaintances? That's all?"

"Yes, she lived next door to my family growing up until around high school when they moved to America, but she came back. I hadn't seen her in a while. Mycroft was the one who told me she was dead."

Addison sat in silence.

"So you were friends?" John asked.

"Acquaintances," Sherlock corrected.

"Sherlock, you were friends. You just have to admit it," John said, clearly annoyed.

"Alright, yes. Maybe we were _friends_. We went to school together and we "hung out" sometimes. What does that matter and why would she leave _my_ name in the book?"

"Sherlock, can I talk to you in private?" Then John turned to Addison, "You'll just have to excuse us for a second."

Sherlock stared at John with puzzlement on his face and reluctantly followed him into the kitchen.

"Do you know what I think about all of this Sherlock?"

Sherlock wasn't exactly paying attention, but when he realized what John was hinting at he was quick to correct him, "Absolutely not. That is not what is going on."

"Have you looked at her, Sherlock?"

"Yes, she's been sitting across from me for the past five minutes."

"Tell me it's not even the slightest bit possible and I'll believe you."

"John! I don't have any children! Me? With a daughter? Just the thought of that is impossible!"

"Sherlock, tell me that it's impossible."

Sherlock was silent before running his hands through his hair, used them to cover his nose and mouth and said, "Alright maybe it is possible."

"Sherlock!"

"But, it's improbable."

"Sherlock are you telling me that she could be your child."

"Keep your voice down, John! All you have to go on is that she looks like me and I knew her mother!"

"You just said it was possible."

"One time, John! It was once. Me and Stella were- I don't even know what we were!"

"It only takes one time, Sherlock!"

"Improbable. I told you. She is not my child. Can we move on to the fact that she is abused?"

John knew it was just to get him off the subject; Sherlock probably didn't care much if the child was being bused, but it did spark his thoughts.

"You noticed too?" John asked before realizing who he was talking to.

"Yes, should we…call someone? Or something? I don't know, you're better at this than I am."

"I think we should let her stay here for a little while longer and maybe she'll tell us."

"Keep her here? And do what?"

John ignored Sherlock and walked back out into the living room, apologizing to Addison. Sherlock followed, yet again. He kept quiet mostly, throughout the conversation.

John had steered Addison into a pretty interesting conversation. Sherlock had been able to gather bits and pieces of her life and personality to learn even more about who she was. The conversation was cut off when Sherlock's phone rang. It was Lestrade.

"Hello?" Sherlock answered. "No, I'm not busy." "Yes, we can come." "Alright." He hung up the phone.

"Lestrade needs us?" John asked and Sherlock nodded.

"Double homicide. Not a single trace of evidence. Nothing to go on."

"So that means you'll have everything to go on," John said.

"Sounds fun!" Addison said, standing up. "I guess I'll leave you both now. Thank you so much for your time."

John didn't want her to leave, he hadn't gotten the abuse out of her and he was disappointed that she would be sent back home.

Sherlock noticed this also and before John could say anything he said, "Lestrade would never agree."

"Lestrade?" she asked with a laugh, "I know detective inspector Lestrade. I don't think he likes me very much. We got into a row about me taking case files."

"You were the one who stole the case files? He's been going mad over that!" Sherlock chuckled.

Addison was surprised at the tiny bit of emotion he had showed and rolled her eyes, "It's not stealing! I put them back!"

"If Lestrade knows her, then it's not a problem," John said hopefully.

Sherlock looked at the girl before him. She wasn't stupid. She didn't act or even dress like the teenage girls he had seen in this age. She had manners and her personality seemed to be that of his. he could deal with this for a day. Long enough for John to get more information.

"Alright, just this once," Sherlock said.

Sherlock rode in the front seat of the cab while John and Addison talked more. When they got to Scotland Yard, they realized what a problem getting Lestrade to okay her coming to the crime scene was going to be.

"I've got it!" She said and ran to a desk crowded with fliers; she grabbed a pen out of her bag and filled a few things out. She handed it to John and he looked it over. It was a flier for a program in which kids interested in this field, spent a day with detectives. She even had her signature and had her foster mother's name forged on the bottom.

"This might just be crazy enough to work," John whispered to Sherlock.

"No, not crazy enough, Brilliant enough!" Sherlock said out loud with a huge smile and he walked away to Lestrade's office without another glance back at his two companions. Addison smiled at the compliment and John still could not believe what had just happened. Sherlock giving compliments to children? This was different and John didn't know if he should be proud or worried.


	3. Chapter 3

"Two victims. A husband and wife. Both strangled in their home-" Lestrade started to explain while sitting in his chair.

"Yes alright, why aren't we having this conversation at the crime scene?" Sherlock interrupted

"Because we have something I need you to look at," Lestrade said and then looked behind Sherlock at John and Addison.

He gave Sherlock a wide-eyed look and stood up. Lestrade waked outside his office, Sherlock behind him.

"What are you doing here? What is the meaning of this?" Lestrade asked pointing at Addison.

"Calm down Detective Inspector, I'm not here to take anything," Addison said, rolling her eyes.

"How do you even know her? She's the one who's been taking the case files! Can't do anything about it though, because we've no evidence," he told John.

"We just met her. We thought…maybe…well…I don't know… that she could work around with us. Just for today."

"Absolutely not. No. You know I'm technically not allowed to even have you two here? This is too much."

"If it's the rules you're worried about, then here," Addison handed him the form. Lestrade looked it over.

"This is scheduled for tomorrow," Lestrade said, "And honestly I'm not looking forward to it one bit."

John walked over to Lestrade and whispered what was going on in his ear.

"Can't you just bend the rules this once? I promise I'll leave you alone from now on!" Addison pleaded.

Lestrade looked from Addison to John and then he looked at the paper.

"This once. This is seriously the only time ever," He finally agreed.

"We owe you one," John said.

"Sherlock there is a video that the killer sent me. It's just him talking," Lestrade said.

"Alright. Well, Addison, why don't we take a look? Let's let them talk for a minute," Sherlock said.

This attitude was surprising John more and more by the minute. Addison followed Sherlock into the room.

"That's the one I was telling you about!" Lestrade cried, "That's the kid I told you about a while ago! The one who I said reminds me of Sherlock!"

"What else can you tell me about her?" John asked Lestrade.

"Not much more than you can. She's an orphan. Both of her parents died, or at least that's what the records say. She's living with a family a few minutes away from the city. They don't seem to look after her much."

"Yeah, I can tell."

"Glad I'm not the only one who thought something was wrong. She smokes."

"What? She's thirteen."

"You'd be surprised how young kids start nowadays. I'd be willing to bet my job she's done some sort of drugs before."

"You said her parents died?"

"The mother died of cancer, but the father is tricky. There's not much that says he actually existed prior to this death a year after she was born. You know how bad the foster system is. I had to take this on by myself. I just felt bad, you know? She's a bright kid."

"Listen, I know this is going to be sort of weird to hear, but I think Sherlock is connected with her somehow. He knew her mother. They were friends and he says it's possible, but he doubts it."

Lestrade looked at John like he had three heads, "Wait a minute? It's possible? Sherlock? A father?"

"Tell me they aren't exactly alike!"

"That's really scary to think about, you know that?"

"I know it seems like I'm jumping to conclusions, but i think we should test it."

"I'll take Sherlock to the crime scene and you take her to Molly. She can do it as a favor, can't she?"

That's exactly what they did. Sherlock deciphered the message the killer left on the video and he and Lestrade went to the crime scene. That left John with Addison. They got to the hospital and found Molly, who was on lunch.

"Molly I need to ask a favor."

"Sure John, what is it?" The pathologist asked with a smile.

Molly agreed to do the test. When Addison asked why they were doing a paternity test on her, they both told her child services had ordered it, just to confirm.

Addison knew the real reason, however. She had known it all along. They caught on to the fact that Sherlock Holmes was too much like her to not be related in some way.

John had told Molly of Sherlock's involvement in secret. She was probably the most surprised he had seen her in his entire time knowing her.

Molly would have the results in a day. When John asked how that was possible, she said she had ways and this was important to her.

Before they left the hospital, John got a text from Sherlock:

_I can fill you in more about the case. Lunch?_

"Are you hungry?" John asked Addison.

X~X

They met at a diner a few blocks away.

"My mother told me she lived in America," Addison said after she was done eating. Sherlock ordered nothing, like usual.

"Yes. She moved away. Her parents found work or something in America. She was upset, but she came back. I saw her once and that's about all there is to it."

Addison nodded, "I was just curious, you know. You could have sent me away after that. It was really nice of you both to let me stay."

John and Sherlock made eye contact and then John said, "So I'm still wondering how you knew Sherlock was hiding in the kitchen this morning."

She shrugged, "Lucky guess."

"You've read my website, you definitely don't guess," Sherlock said.

"I observe," she smirked.

"Please, humor me with your deductions thus far,"

"About you?"

"About us. Me and John."

"Fine. Alright, I'll skip the stuff everyone already knows and go to the fact that you aren't a couple."

"Thank you!" John nearly shouted.

"Though if you keep that up, Mr. Watson, people are just going to keep assuming."

"You don't have to call me Mr. Watson. That's my father. Just call me John, I don't mind. And call him Sherlock," John said, smiling at Sherlock who just stared back.

When she had finished telling all she knew about them, Sherlock was quite impressed.

"So Addison, after the case and all, how are you getting home?" John asked.

"Oh my foster family lives a few minutes outside of London. I usually walk or get a cab when I come to the city. I go to school here. A bus picks me up."

"Have you called and checked in with your family? Won't they be worried about you?"

Addison shrugged and took a sip of her soda, "They don't care. I'm gone a lot. They don't usually notice I'm out until they need something."

"Are you the only child?"

"Yes. I'm usually not, though."

"What do you mean usually?"

"I've been to a lot of different homes. Most of them have kids already. They get rid of me quickly. They always do."

"Why would they do that?"

"Because I'm different."

"Well, everyone's a little different aren't they?"

Addison shrugged again.

X~X

It never ceased to amaze John how Sherlock could solve a case in less than a day. This case wasn't exactly big, but still.

It was around eleven and John was ready to pass out, which he did on the couch. Leaving Sherlock and Addison in the living room. Sherlock was checking the blog and Addison was reading.

Sherlock hadn't made her leave yet. He still had a few questions of his own.

"So tell me, when exactly did the nightmares start?" Sherlock asked and Addison looked up from the book she was reading.

This was not expected. Sherlock Holmes didn't talk about things.

He could tell that she struggled to stay awake for as long as she could each night. Sometimes she didn't even sleep, tonight was going to be one of those nights.

Addison was terrified of getting the results tomorrow.

"I've always had them, but you know that, don't you? You just asked me that to get me talking about them so hopefully, I would tell you what they're about."

Sherlock kept staring at the girl who stared back with the exact same look on her face.

The he raised his eyebrows, "So are you going to tell me about them or not?"

Addison put the book down and began to tell Sherlock of the nightmare.

"I'm in a house. The house is huge and I keep wandering around and opening doors to try and find someone, but I can't. Nobody is there so I panic and I keep running around trying to find someone. Now whenever I open the doors, there's laughing, like someone is mocking me and telling me that I'll never get out. They don't seem that frightening, but they're just annoying."

"Have you told your family?"

Addison shook her head, "I don't bother. They wouldn't care."

Sherlock felt himself becoming more saddened each time this girl talked.

"What about your friends?"

"Friends?"

"You have friends, don't you?"

"I have some, but I wouldn't tell any of them."

"Why not?"

"They don't need to worry about me. I'm- I'm just fine."

"You keep saying that your parents don't care about you."

"They don't care. Some of the families do, but these ones don't."

Sherlock decided just to come out with it, "They hit you, don't they?"

Addison gave a quick laugh, "Should've kept the scarf on."

"That wouldn't have done much good. I could tell even this morning. So why don't you tell anyone about it?"

"Because I can take it. It doesn't matter. As long as I can stay in a house instead of an orphanage, it's alright."

"There are scars on your wrists. _That's_ not alright."

Addison was surprised and scared. Sherlock Holmes was indeed the best at what he did. She didn't honestly think he would figure out _that_ much about her already, "They're old. I haven't done that in a while."

"No, you smoke now."

Addison grabbed her left wrist and held it. This was making her uncomfortable. Coming here was a mistake.

She looked over at John sleeping on the couch, "Well, I just have to thank you for letting me barge in on you like I did this morning. Thank you for your help...and the concern. I guess I should leave now."

"No. Not if they're hurting you. You can stay and read. John will wake up tomorrow. We can get you home then."

That surprised Addison even more.

"Thank you, Sherlock," she said with a smile.

When she went back to reading, Sherlock kept looking at Addison from behind the computer screen. He couldn't help but think that if she was his daughter, she wouldn't be treated like this and then he wondered just what he and John had gotten themselves into.

_"Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock,"_ Mycroft's words kept echoing inside his head.

* * *

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for the positive feedback! I didn't expect anyone to even like this story. Please, help me fix anything to make my writing better. I want to write this story as well as I can!

~Lakon


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you all for the reviews and favorites and I love you all! :D Sorry for the long non-update. I finished school a while ago and I had finals and now I'm taking driver's training, so that and a few other things have been my priority for a while.

I have a few things on my mind that I would like to share:

First of all, Addison is not meant to be an innocent character...if that wasn't apparent already. That's just how I want her to be.

Second of all, one of the points I was trying to make with this story was that kids aren't exactly all innocent these days. They know and do more than people expect them to. That's just the reality of everything! And all the "trouble" Addison gets into and the "acting like an adult" is her way of trying to prove a point. She doesn't want to be labeled as a kid and I think that's a pretty accurate characteristic in all kids.

I'm sorry if that wasn't clear in the story.

I did originally intend for Addison to be seven and actually be a "child". I have that story as well, (it's just a oneshot, but I could publish it really quick if anyone's interested), but me and my brother Braden, (who has been helping me with this. Shout out to him for being awesome) thought it would be more fun to write and give the story more humor if she was a teenager who acted too old for her age. I guess in someways, Braden and I can relate because we've always acted somewhat like her and a lot of the things she's been through, have happened to us. I always try to add something personal to writing. Braden is younger than Addison and so seeing some of the things that go on in his life, have helped me determine what is and isn't appropriate for me to write.

So in short, don't expect Addison to be sitting around all clueless and innocently watching Disney Channel or something while Sherlock and John are out on cases. That's not how she rolls and let's be real here, would you if you were her?

Just thought that had to be clarified. I am sorry for boring you with my motives on writing this story.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

John wondered for a second why he was sitting in the back of a cab, with a girl he had just met yesterday, so she could live with him and Sherlock.

Because she was Sherlock's daughter.

Sherlock Holmes had a daughter.

John still couldn't believe it.

Then he replayed the events of the day over in his head:

_John woke up, Addison was reading a book, and Sherlock was out. Sherlock must have let her stay. That was a surprise. It was also a surprise how nobody who know about this thought it was weird that Addison was with them. They had only known her for one day.  
_

_John got a text from Molly saying she had the results, which John didn't think he was ready to hear just yet, so he introduced Addison to Mrs. Hudson. They talked while John got ready._

_John texted Lestrade, saying he had the results. John texted Sherlock, saying they had something important for him to look at._

_When they all met at the hospital, Addison sat outside in a waiting chair. Molly handed Sherlock an envelope._

_Sherlock opened the envelope with curiosity and got the shock of his life. Addison Smith was his daughter._

_The four of them peered out the window of the door at the girl. John would never understand how a child could resemble their parent so profoundly, even though the science of it was elementary, as Sherlock would put it.  
_

_"So what does this mean? What's going to happen?" Molly asked._

_"This means Scotland Yard will be seeing a lot more of her," Lestrade said with a sigh.  
_

_"This means we have a girl to take care of," John said._

_Sherlock had been absolutely silent throughout the whole thing._

_"Sherlock…" John started, noticing the absence of concentration._

_Sherlock didn't speak; he just stared at the paper. He read it over and over and over looking for anything that could possibly be a mistake._

_"It's true," he said in almost a whisper, "Oh god, it's true," he put his hands together and brought the tips to his lips like he usually did when he was thinking._

_When they had told Addison, a confused look appeared on her face, but then realization took over.  
_

_"You are my dad," she said softly._

_Sherlock nodded, "It seems that way."_

_He looked down at her and she looked up at him. Before anyone knew it, she had wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug and he surprisingly hugged her back. It was an awkward moment, but still sort of cute.  
_

_"I'm still calling you Sherlock," she said as if daring him to tell her otherwise._

_He snorted and the rest of the group cracked smiles._

_They went home to tell Mrs. Hudson, who almost had a heart-attack, and she told Sherlock to "never surprise and old woman like that again", and also that Addison would be in a room above the flat, on the same floor as John's.  
_

_Sherlock had reluctantly decided that in order for this to be easiest, he would have to talk to Mycroft. While he did that, he sent John (carrying fake and probably illegal papers to show the foster family) with Addison to get her things.  
_

_They had gotten to the house and were let in. Addison went upstairs to collect her things and John explained. It surprised him how little the father cared that she was leaving. Apparently, this was because of the fact that he had wanted a boy and obviously Addison was not. They had requested another child who would be there by the end of the week. John wondered if they would have sent Addison back, had she not found him and Sherlock. The mother showed a little care that Addison was leaving. She asked to see the papers, but didn't look over them very well, so she didn't notice that they were fake.  
_

_Addison walked down the stairs right after and John saw that she had only two suitcases. They left. This was it. She was another step closer to officially being Addison Holmes.  
_

John would think back on this day for the rest of his life. He wondered how Sherlock's meeting with Mycroft was going and was slightly upset he couldn't see the look on Mycroft's face when he found out Sherlock was a father.

When they had returned to Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson stopped them from going upstairs asking Addison if she could help her with something in another room, leaving Mrs. Hudson and John alone at the bottom of the stairs.

"Mycroft is up there. He's been here for a while and I don't know whats happening," Mrs. Hudson warned, and that was all John needed to hear to know he should probably proceed with caution. There was no knowing what would ensue between Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes.

Mycroft seemed to be in mid-sentence when Sherlock interrupted him by saying hello to John.

"Is everything alright?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes. We got all her stuff, Hello Mycroft," John said.

"All her stuff? Already? We don't even have adoption papers! _That isn't even legal, Sherlock!_" Mycroft said and Sherlock ignored him, like always.

But there was something different about the way Sherlock was ignoring Mycroft. Sherlock was angry. He actually looked angry. Normally, he keeps his emotions inside, but he was seething and not looking at Mycroft. Mycroft was the same way.

"I've missed something, haven't I?" John asked.

Sherlock spoke, "Just tell me, _Mycroft_! I already have an idea of what it is."

There was an awkward silence.

"I already knew," Mycroft spoke up finally.

"What do you mean you already knew?" asked John. Sherlock looked at his brother with such rage that John thought he might have to restrain Sherlock from attacking him.

John really had no idea what was going on.

"At the funeral…I saw her and…" Mycroft said, looking unsure if he wanted to go on, "And well, look at her! She's just like him. I knew she had to be his daughter." John realized he was talking about Addison and apparently he already knew about this.

"And you didn't tell him anything?" John asked and Sherlock looked at Mycroft with the same expression as John.

"Oh please!" Mycroft sneered at Sherlock now, "_You_ raise a child? What with you running all around London, playing detective and solving crimes? I don't think so."

"Mycroft, you kept me from my child because you were jealous?" Sherlock spoke with amusement, but angry amusement.

Mycroft didn't deny anything. John was confused again.

"Jealous of what?" John asked.

"When we were growing up you formed a little crush on her. You loved her. You loved Stella, but she didn't want you…She wanted me," Sherlock said to Mycroft.

Mycroft crossed his arms over his chest.

"When she was pregnant, she told you didn't she? And you were right there to help her. Made up a fake father for Addison because she knew she was going to die and you couldn't let me find out. You couldn't stand the idea that she was carrying my child and not yours," Sherlock said raising his voice on the last sentence.

_Oh_, John realized. Everything made sense now.

Everything was silent.

_"It's all it takes - One lonely, naive man, desperate to show off, and a woman clever enough to make him feel special," _Sherlock spat out the exact words his brother had spoken to him in the past.

Then, Sherlock shook his head, "You bastard."

John, after taking in everything, looked at Mycroft completely different. He knew they despised each other and they still had sort of a sibling rivalry going on, but he never thought Mycroft (or anyone for that matter) would do something as insane as that.

"I still don't like the idea," Mycroft confessed, "The poor girl has been through enough, don't you think?"

"I want to adopt my daughter, Mycroft, and if you won't help me, I'll just have to do it the hard way."

Mycroft could have everything ready by tomorrow. Well actually, he could have it by today, but he didn't tell Sherlock that.

"If you change your mind-" Mycroft started.

"You can leave now," Sherlock said, not even looking at Mycroft.

"_Actually_, I'd like to meet her, if that's alright with you," he said.

Sherlock walked into his bedroom.

John sighed, "I can go get her."

* * *

Addison was outside. Smoking.

"There's something else you need to know about living here," John spoke up.

Addison didn't shift her gaze, but replied, "Alright."

"You have to stop smoking."

She hesitated before asking, "Because you're trying to get Sherlock to quit?"

John hadn't thought about even that, but said, "Yes, that and you're thirteen. I don't care what you or anyone else says about it. It's a horrible habit. You must start stopping."

Addison sighed and stomped her cigarette out. She looked at John who had his arms crossed.

"You need to come upstairs and meet someone now," John said.

Addison slightly frowned, "Who?"

"Your uncle, Mycroft."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except for OC's.

Alright, well I'm going to start out by saying that I love Mycroft, but I had to make him a dick. I'm sorry, it was too tempting. :)

I'm also extremely sorry for the long non-update. I'm struggling to find details to fill in the story until _Hounds of Baskerville _so I might just go ahead after this chapter and skip to it. Anyways, here's chapter five.

Thank you! x

* * *

**Chapter five**

Addison walked upstairs after John and when she was in the living room, she instinctively looked around for Sherlock. He was not there, however and Addison began to wonder why.

There was another man in the room. Her uncle, Mycroft, apparently. Upon seeing her, he didn't show any specific emotion. He just looked at her and then at John and said, "I still don't agree with this."

After she had been introduced very shortly but sweetly, Mycroft said that he needed to leave and start on getting the adoption over with. Mycroft had given Addison a hug and welcomed her into the family. He also told her if she wanted out or if Sherlock was becoming too much, then to call him. John had rolled his eyes at this.

After Mycroft, Sherlock swept back into the room, looking intently at the laptop in his hand.

"I wonder if you could have made _that_ any more awkward for us, Sherlock," John said with an annoyed expression on his face. Addison smiled.

"Oh yes, how did that go?" Sherlock asked, not looking away from his laptop.

"I remember him," Addison said, "He was at my mum's funeral."

"Yes well, he probably gained weight since then, but I'm sure he looks quite the same," Sherlock said, mumbling the part about Mycroft's weight. He got up to go into the kitchen.

"But I didn't see you there," she softly said and looked at Sherlock.

Sherlock didn't, however, turn around to look at her and John noticed the the same look on his face as when he insulted Molly last Christmas.

"That's actually the real reason I didn't try to find you sooner. I gave up because I figured you must not be worth it."

Sherlock still had his back facing Addison and for the second time that day, he was completely speechless.

"Hey Addison," John said, "Why don't I show you your room upstairs? Come on, I'll carry one of your bags."

Addison nodded and picked up one of her cases and her messenger bag. She followed John up the stairs leaving Sherlock alone with his thoughts.

He _should_ have been at the funeral, but he wasn't. He truthfully felt too guilty and angry and upset and a million other emotions he would never admit to anyone. He had never loved Stella. He would never do that to Mycroft, no matter how much of a pain in the arse he was as a brother. It was one night. One mistake.

But in that case, would that make his daughter a mistake as well?

Sherlock may have despised most children, but saying someone was a mistake was one of those rare things his heart did not find acceptable. Addison already had enough going on in her life and probably already considered herself a mistake. No child should feel that way about themselves. No child should have to resort to things as Addison has.

Sherlock would change that. He didn't know how, but he would.

X~X

It had been exactly a month since the day Addison moved in and John noticed that it felt like she had always been there. Funny, he had felt the same way about Sherlock. he couldn't remember times when Addison wasn't there, when she wasn't downstairs every morning, when she didn't walk to school and home from it, when her and Sherlock weren't arguing over some abstract concept of the world, discussing serial killers, or when she wasn't giving her input on their cases.

As much as life seemed similar, life was extremely different having Addison around as well. There was actually some food in the kitchen (along with the occasional body parts and experiments her and Sherlock now worked on together.) Sherlock was even becoming more aware of the world and culture...if you count John and Addison trying desperately to explain the appeal of Harry Potter to him. Nonetheless, he was learning.

Sherlock and John had also been introduced to Addison's friend Cassie. The girl was in almost every one of Addison's classes and seemed to be Addison's only friend, though Sherlock and John never asked. Cassie was very sweet, much taller than Addison, and had bright orange puffy hair and freckles. John liked her sense of humor and Sherlock seemed to like her because she wasn't extraordinarily dumb. The thing they both found amusing was that Addison and Cassie couldn't be more different from each other, but still managed to be friends. Yet another similarity to John and his relationship with Sherlock.

John could only imagine how hard it was for Addison to get used to being around 221b. He worried about it at first, but she had done surprisingly as well as he had.

Sherlock, though having a mission in mind to be a proper father, had no idea what to do or where to start. The first few days were rough. Addison only really spoke to him about what was for dinner and where everything in the flat was. She had more conversations with John than with Sherlock which was awkward, but secretly a relief. Sherlock didn't think he could have done any of this without John and thanked any god out there that he was here.

The moment Sherlock felt close to his daughter for the first time was one afternoon when she came home from school and dropped a book accidentally on the floor. Sherlock picked it up and took the opportunity to try and have a real conversation. After all, that's what John had said he should do.

"The Godfather?" he asked, reading the title and handing it to her.

"Yeah, Cassie got it for me. It's one of my favorite movies and I've never read the book before. It's fantastic," She said, talking just as fast as he did.

Sherlock hadn't ever watched the movie the whole way through and never had much interest in reading the book. _Shit. _Nothing more to talk about, or so Sherlock had thought.

"What's your favorite book, Sherlock? I've always wondered," Addison asked, throwing her bag on the kitchen table and sitting down in a chair. Her green eyes, or more like _his_ green eyes, were looking at Sherlock and bursting with curiosity.

"There's too many to choose just one."

"I think so too!" She was extremely happy about something today.

It amazed Sherlock how at times she could act like a twenty year old and other times she still acted like a child.

The next day Addison had come home from school with another book.

"I have a present for you, Sherlock," She said and handed he book to him. A children's book about stars that was titled, "Learning About the Solar System!" It was a picture book.

Sherlock was extremely confused. "What is this?"

"John told me you don't know much about the solar system, so I thought we'd better teach you from the beginning," Addison burst into a fit of laughter, unable to control it. From the other room, Sherlock heard John slam his laptop closed and erupt with laughter as well.

"Oh did he?" Sherlock asked looking over at John who was in the kitchen now.

"You did NOT, buy him a book!" John spoke through his laughter, not believing it.

"He also told me about you going to Buckingham Palace in a sheet, meeting a dominatrix, and some other interesting stories about Mycroft."

John calmed down from his laughter and mumbled, "Sorry, Sherlock." Though he clearly wasn't. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

Sherlock decided to humor the both of them and flipped over the first page.

Addison laughed again and said, "You don't have to read the bloody thing, Sherlock. I was kidding!"

He ignored her and continued. There were about ten words on each page, which he read and criticized. ("Really? What, is this book for _toddlers_?")

John had watched all of these events and saw the fascinating period of time when a complete stranger turns into someones daughter.

He didn't really know what _he_ was to Addison until one Saturday morning when he was reading out loud about a drug bust in the paper.

"I don't do drugs," she said firmly, obviously knowing that John was hinting at what Lestrade had said before.

"Lestrade thinks you do," John replied.

"Well Lestrade is a..." she said in an annoyed tone, but didn't finish the sentence when John gave her a look. Instead she said, "I hang out with kids who do, but I never have. That's another reason I know Lestrade. He caught them a few times."

"Alright," John said after sighing. He definately thought she was lying.

"I wouldn't lie to you about something like that, John, I promise."

Addison went back to her laptop (which she had suckered one of her old foster families into buying her for Christmas. Another family had given her an iPhone), said nothing more about the topic, and John looked over his paper at her. That probably had been the most sincere thing he had heard Addison say to him. The other thing that touched John was the fact that she felt like could tell him the truth. That was when he realized she trusted him as much as she trusted Sherlock.

X`X

The next day was Saturday and they had a small case which led them to a department store downtown to talk to the manager who was a possible suspect in her husband's murder. Addison went with them and Sherlock noticed her eying a pair of shoes. She acted like she was involved in the real reason they were at the store. Typical.

Addison had listened from a distance to the questions the woman was being asked and when she walked over to Sherlock and John she said, "She didn't do it."

"That's what he said!" John said pointing to Sherlock. "How can _you_ tell?"

"Okay first of all, Did you see her? She was obviously out all last night judging by her massive headache from a hangover, and she obviously didn't want anyone to find out. I bet if there were black lights in here, we could see a club stamp on her hand. How could she have killed him?"

"Not bad," Sherlock said.

Addison nodded, hiding a look of pride.

"And if you keep it up, I'll get you those shoes you want."

Addison's face lit up and John laughed.

X~X

The next day would definitely go down as a day that Addison would remember forever.

"There were _no_ witnesses?" Sherlock had asked Lestrade at the crime scene where a coffee shop worker had been set on fire.

"There was one. A thirteen year old. Poor kid's in shock," Lestrade nodded over to his left at the boy sitting alone at a table with a blanket over him.

Addison looked over at him and noticed something. When she had finally got a look at his face, she realized that she knew this kid. Nick Issac. He was in her Algebra class. They had never spoken, but they saw each other every day. She had practically known him her whole life.

She failed to hide the shock from her face and Sherlock had noticed.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Oh- nothing," she said, looking up at Sherlock, but quickly back to Nick. "I just know him from school."

"You know him from school?" Lestrade asked. "Well isn't that convenient?" He smiled at John and Sherlock. "Maybe, we'll be able to get him to tell us what happened after all."

Everyone looked at Addison.

She caught on to what Lestrade was trying to get her to do. "No," she said quickly.

Lestrade's smile fell immediately and was replaced with an eye roll, "Oh come on! It'll really help me out and besides, you're not even supposed to be here! The least you can do is talk to your friend."

"But he's not even my friend! I've never talked to him before in my life!"

"Well good! Now you can start!"

Addison walked over to Nick and sat down next to him. He didn't move or even acknowledge her presence. It was awkward, to say the least.

"Hi, Nick," She started. "Um, I don't really know what to say here. Lestrade says you wont talk to anyone and um-"

In a split second, he turned his head to face her, almost as if he had snapped back to reality.

"Hey you're- you're the girl who sits behind me in Algebra. Addison. Your name is Addison," Nick said quickly.

"Yeah, that's me," Addison said. Lestrade had noticed he was speaking now and walked over, close enough to hear them.

"You- you just sit in the back of class. You don't ever talk much. Why don't you ever talk?" Nick asked very loudly. He looked extremely confused. He was also extremely off topic from the shock. Addison decided that keeping him talking was probably the best, though.

"I don't have many friends to talk to," She said still trying to keep him talking. Sherlock and John had their attention turned to Addison and Nick as well.

"I'll be your friend."

It took Addison a second to realize what Nick had just said. She then waved it off and decided it was the shock talking.

"Alright, Nick," She said with a smile, going along with it. "Why don't you talk to Lestrade and then we'll see."

He bit his lip and nodded his head. Addison had never seen him like this. She got up and walked back towards Sherlock and John.

"And her heart grew three sizes that day," Lestrade whispered and smirked as he walked past Addison.


End file.
